


Winter Wonderland

by SilverVendetta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:12:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverVendetta/pseuds/SilverVendetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is lost inside a museum on Christmas Eve.  Then he meets an attractive art historian and his holiday gets a whole lot better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [no_mutiny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_mutiny/gifts).



“Okay, I know I just passed that stupid statue like five minutes ago,” Dean muttered under his breath. He glared at the statue in question, as if it was somehow its fault he was stuck in this stupid place.

It was actually Sam’s fault. Sam was the one who insisted Dean had to go to the art museum’s new exhibit, on Christmas eve of all days. Dean didn’t even particularly like art all that much. Stupid Sam with his stupid floppy hair and big brown puppy dog eyes, and now Dean was hopelessly lost in a place full of vibrant paintings and weird sculptures that made no sense to him whatsoever. 

It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. All he would have done anyway was sit around drinking beer and watching old movies all night. At least Sam was around here, somewhere. He might wring his neck once he found him for bringing him in the first place, but at least he was there, and not on the other side of the country or not speaking to him.

Sighing, Dean turned on his heel and almost bumped into someone. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized quickly, taking a step back. The extremely attractive, disheveled-looking man clutching a wrinkled piece of paper and frowning glanced up at him. 

The other man blinked. “Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there.” He attempted a friendly smile.  
Dean raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t?”

The other man shook his head. “I was too busy focusing on my map, my apologies.” He gestured with the paper.

Dean perked up at that. “You have a map?” 

The man nodded. “It’s my first week working here, and I keep getting lost. So far all I know where to get to is the cafe and the restroom.”

“This place has a cafe?” Dean asked, intrigued.

The man nodded again. “They have excellent hot chocolate and pie.”

Dean grinned. “Can I borrow your map? I think I know where I need to go now.”

The stranger grinned back, blue eyes twinkling. “I think I have a better idea.”  
Twenty minutes later, they were seated on a bench in the crowded cafe, holding Styrofoam cups full of hot chocolate which were getting colder the longer they talked. Dean found himself entranced by everything the man, Castiel, told him. Cas (Castiel was too much of a mouthful, Dean thought) was an art historian, and very passionate about his work. His fierce admiration of Michelangelo made him so animated that Dean found himself neglecting his pie in favor of watching the way Cas’s hands gestured when he was delivering a point, or how his eyes lit up as he remembered another bit of trivia.

He told Cas about his job as a mechanic, and how his little brother had dragged him here to see an exhibit which he couldn’t even remember the name of. Cas offered to take him to it, which was how Dean wound up getting led around the museum, having every exhibit explained to him with equal amounts of enthusiasm. Of course, Cas still had to consult the map after each one, but somehow Dean didn’t mind. 

They ran into Sam talking to a pretty blonde girl outside one of the newer exhibits. From the grin on Sam’s face, Dean had a feeling his brother would probably be busy the rest of the night. He’d have to save the neck-wringing for later, after he thanked him for dragging him to the exhibit he was gaining a bit of a better appreciation for. Well, he appreciated the fact that it caused him to meet Cas, anyway. Sam smirked knowingly at Dean, but wisely said nothing as he bid them good night.

Dean invited Cas back to his house to do what he had originally planned on doing before Sam got involved, except this time his plans involved eggnog and Die Hard, which he had been aghast to find out Cas had never seen.

"Dude, it's a classic!" Dean had exclaimed, staring at Cas, who had blushed and ran a hand through his dark tousled hair. The move had made Dean want to copy it, and he clenched the steering wheel tightly.

"I apologize for the inadequacy of my movie viewing history," Cas told Dean sincerely, and Dean wanted to groan, because who talked like that?

"We'll just have to get you caught up," Dean told him as he parked the car in the driveway.

Dean and Sam's house was small and not particularly clean, but Cas didn't seem to care as he took a seat on the couch, politely ignoring the brothers' shoddy attempt at decorating. Dean put the movie in and tried to keep his gaze from wandering over to Cas's too often, taking large swigs of his eggnog whenever he felt himself getting too distracted.

Cas was enthralled by the movie, eyes wide as he asked a million questions. Had he been anyone else Dean might have gotten annoyed and told him to shut up, but he couldn't resist the earnest expressions Cas made when he looked at Dean for answers.

One movie led to another, which led to the two men being slightly buzzed and giddy as they reclined on the couch, ignoring the TV as they swapped stories about their families and Christmases past.

Dean finished telling a story about Sam's misadventures at a company Christmas party and grinned at Cas, who smiled back just as brightly. His sweater vest was beginning to feel extremely hot, and he tugged at the collar. He didn't missed the way Dean's eyes darted to his hands at the action.

"Cas...." Dean started, then stopped, standing up. He glanced out the window frowning. "Oh crap!"

"Dean? What's wrong?" Cas asked, concerned. He stood up as well and, glanced over to where Dean was looking.

Outside, the driveway and the road were covered with a blanket at least six inches of fluffy snow. Dean groaned and shook his head.

"Sorry man, looks like you're stuck here with me," he said sheepishly.

Cas smiled back. "I'm sure I could be in worse company."

Dean turned away, fighting a blush that was threatening to creep up his neck. He coughed. "Well anyway, I can get you set up in the spare bedroom for the night. It's not much, but it's much more comfortable than the couch."

Cas smiled at him. "I'm sure it's just fine. Thank you for your hospitality Dean, I really appreciate it."

Dean waved his hand dismissively. "It's nothing man, I appreciate the company. Wouldn't want you to be alone on Christmas Eve either, you know." Cas nodded and they sat back down to carry on their movie marathon as the storm started building up outside.

Around ten Dean yawned and stretched. "I'm beat. The guest room's down the hall from mine, you can just knock if you need anything." He padded off down the hall as Cas silently slipped a notebook from his coat pocket and opened it up.

The next morning Dean shuffled into the kitchen and paused when he saw Cas at the stove, making pancakes. "Good morning, Dean. I hope it wasn't too forward of me to make use of your stove; I wanted to show my appreciation for last night."

Dean laughed and shook his head. "I may just have to keep you," he joked, making himself a cup of coffee. Cas blushed and beamed at Dean's back.

When Dean turned around to set the mug on the table he saw a small sketchbook lying open on it. Curious, he picked it up.

It was a depiction of Dean's beloved Impala in the driveway, snow glistening off of it with the windshield frosted over. Dean's eyes widened. "Cas, did you draw this?" He asked in disbelief, holding it up.

"Do you like it? I didn't have time to get some of the finer details in, but I hoped you would like it. It didn't seem right to leave without giving you a Christmas gift." Cas set the spatula down and turned the stove off.

Dean swallowed hard. He had just met the man this night before, and already he was worming his way into Dean's heart and making it grow three sizes.

"Cas, this is... incredible. I—I don't know what to say." He looked at Cas and bit his lip. 

Cas smiled back at him. "It's alright, Dean. You don't have to say anything."

Dean took a big breath and set the sketchbook down. He crossed the kitchen and stood in front of Cas, who looked up at him with a soft smile.

"Cas, can I... can I kiss you?" Dean asked, suddenly nervous.

Cas chuckled. "I thought you'd never ask."

As their lips finally met, Dean decided that maybe the Christmas Eve museum visit wasn't such a bad idea after all.


End file.
